Potter the globetrotter
by Bobdabuilda
Summary: Harry get's fed up of sitting around waiting for the next tragedy to happen and decides to take of, being a Potter means that he runs into a ton of nasty surprises as he "trots around the globe". No slash, no real pairings.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Harry sat in his bedroom staring morosely out his window. He had to admit to himself that this was his worst summer to date and no amount how many cups of tea he swilled down it didn't help him feel any better. To say it was his worst summer is quite something for a skinny dark haired fifteen year old who had spent the ten first 10 years of his live in the cupboard under the stairs of number four Private Drive.

Harry didn't hate his relatives to be honest and had no desire to subject them bouts of cruciatus or any other similar painful or humiliating curses. He actually pitied them to an extent for they were in his view a bunch of unsophisticated philistines barely evolved from apes. This didn't extend to all muggles of course even if they were in all ways inferior to wizards. Oh yes they had technology but magic made the impossible possible. A satellite couldn't find an unplottable location and a simple shield charm or ward against physical attacks would stop anything from a throwing knife to a nuclear warhead. He postulated that the greatness of a man or wizard is measured by how they treat their inferiors so he didn't keep with the « superior » wizard nutters like Voldemort or Malfoy.

To be perfectly honest have the problems in the wizarding world stemmed from the muggleborn question. The purebloods were unwelcoming snobs so the muggleborns tended after their education to disappear back into the muggle world where they could work a system they knew often using magic to their advantage keeping it a hidden secret from their partners and letting their magic die with them. The puebloods on the other hand were producing less and less children and slowly killing themselves through inbreeding and wars brought on by their prejudices (hundreds of families had died through the goblin revolts, centaur riots etc..)

However these musings were not the reason for Harry's state of mind, no this was due to the death of one Sirius Black which was sharply brought back to him by a letter from Gringotts requesting his presence on the 1st of August for the reading of his will. Dumbledore the control freak that he was, tried to forbid him from going stating security reasons but he had quite firmly told him to put his favourite Christmas present, a sock, in it. The old coot wasn't trying to rob him or anything but he had become so used to keeping information from everyone about everything that he had to try. It was only when he pointed out that that the goblins letter was a two way portkey from his room to the bank that the barmy old codger relented and got his overly large nose out of Harry's business.

Obviously the goblins, surly little buggers that they were would only be to delighted to record the will of a wanted mass-murdering criminal if only to get one over the ministry and it's pettiness with regards to the goblins. The ministry only had to take one look at the will department in Gringotts where the will of a person automatically activated on his death to know that Wormtail was alive and Sirius was dead. So all in all it was thanks to the ministry-goblin relations or absence of that Sirius left a will.

So there Harry was sitting on his bed staring out he window holding the letter waiting for the Portkey to activate. The goblins like any self respecting magic user had omitted to mention the time of activation.. Typical although to be fair when one dabbles with a force that defies logic one does tend to lose the notion of the importance of being logical or practical for that matter.

Harry was suddenly pulled from his musings by a sharp tug in his navel at 2:37 31s in the afternoon (see no logic!) and proceeded lot arrive on his arse in the middle of the bank.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you Tourette for my very first review

Chapter 2 Gringotts

Scowling at several sniggering goblins, Harry was led to a small conference room in the very bowels of the bank. As he entered the room he noticed that Hermione, the Weasleys, Lupin and several order members were already there.

An aged goblin sidled up to him and said « Welcome Mr Potter, my name is Nosesmasher and I'll be reading the deceased's will. If you don't mind could you stay after the reading so as to sort out the Potter accounts with Skull cracker »

Well, thought Harry, I wonder what this is all about. But figuring that he would get explanations afterwards proceeded to nod to the goblin who wondered of to ramble in gobbledygook to some of his colleagues.

Then our poor Hero was subjected to over enthusiastic greetings from various people and a series of « bone crushing hugs » from the female members of the gathering. That is except for Mrs Malfoy who had just walked in staring at him disdainfully followed by Draco who flounced in.

As Draco proceeded to rile up the Weasleys notable Ron with some comments on clothing, money and such, Harry had to wonder how he had ever considered this spoilt brat as a rival. For one Draco had never really cut it to rival someone marked and equal to the Dark Lord himself, and secondly the position was already taken by Voldemort so there were no openings at the present time thank you very much. Another thing that had always puzzled him was how Draco had got into slytherin, the loud mouthed ferret didn't have an once of slyness and cunning in him. Harry secretly reckoned that he was only in Slytherin because he didn't have any bravery, loyalty or intelligence and the hat had had to make a hereditary choice.

By the time Harry returned from his musings half the room had a goblin knife or spear under there throat to get them to shut up and stop fighting. Nosesmasher then sat at the desk and read the will of the late Lord Black.

« I, lord of the Ancient and Most noble House of Black, being sound of mind and of body, do hereby leave the following:

To Remus Lupin I leave 10 000 Galleons. Have fun with it Remus, you were the last of my friends and I hope you have a chance for happiness and peace. Keep an eye out for Harry.

To Nymphadora Tonks, I leave 5000 Galleons, Remember your cousin fondly.

To Dumbledore I leave Number 12 with the condition that it reverts to Harry when Voldemort has been defeated.

To Harry Potter, I am proud of you no matter what, and I leave to you the remainder of my estate, 123 000 Galleons and all the Black heirlooms including the Family Library. Good luck.

To everyone else I leave nothing and I do hereby dissolve the Black name and Lordship, from henceforth I am the last Lord Black »

At that Draco the greedy scumbag was almost in tears, but honestly what did he expect. However what surprised Harry somewhat was the reaction the Weasleys and Hermione had. Ron looked slightly jealous but then again when wasn't he, somewhere at the back of his mind Harry had always known since the Triwizard tournament that Ron and himself would eventually go there different ways, the other Weasleys looked somewhat disappointed which was strange. What struck Harry as really odd was Hermione's twinge of jealousy when it struck him that the mention of all those books had got her salivating.

After all the moneys were signed for, Remus signing for Dumbledore who wasn't there for some odd reason, everybody trooped out leaving Harry alone with the goblins and the order waiting for him outside. Skullcracker then explained to hary the reason for his delayed departure. Apparently Harry, being the only surviving heir of the Potter estate came into his full inheritance at age sixteen, and Skullcracker was his account manager. The effects came from Ministry law as a preservation measure so as to keep old families estates from falling into disrepair. This meant that Harry was legally emancipated with all rights of an adult.

Now the Potters whilst being an old family and having a seat on the wizemgamot, were not nobles or insanely rich. The Estate had lost a lot during the Grindewald years and the first rise of Voldemort, Potter Manor had been levelled in 1945, their secondary home in London was a pill of rubble from when Charles Potter had been murdered with his wife by Death Eaters during James's 7th year and well Godrics Hollow had exploded for obvious reasons in 1981. This left Harry with barely 54000 galleons and no property. However the goblin then proceeded to inform Harry that in the family vault were a number of family Heirlooms and also the library which Charles had had the foresight to move to the vault during the Dark War with Grindewald.

After signing the various papers and magic recognising the validity of the claim (lifting the underage tracking spells on wand and person as the paperwork automatically filed with the Ministry) Harry asked to be taken to his vault which had now received all the moneys, heirlooms and books bequeathed to him by Sirius.

The cart ride was eventful to say the least, as the goblin kept increasing the speed to see if he could get the customary green tinge from his client. Evidently seekers were somewhat immune to such trivialities as it was a very disappointed goblin that arrived in front of the vault. Harry not realizing the goblins secretive desire proceeded to add salt to the wound by thanking the goblin for such a fun ride to which he received a surly scowl in return.

« Place your hand on the door to open the vault » grumbled the goblin, after having run his hand over the door. As Harry entered he took stock of the contents of the vault. He was now the proud owner of 177000 Galleons, not enough to live out his live but enough to give him a head start, no properties except for number twelve which didn't really count because Voldemort would probably have killed him before he got it, a bunch of magical heirlooms that were outdated and useless other than for decorating a house which he didn't have, and a bunch of books.

However it was during his time in the vault that Harry realized what the true richness of any old family was as he came across the « special » family books. Old families had always specialized in a particular domain accumulating knowledge and researching to better that knowledge throughout their centuries of existence. Knowledge only unlocked to those of their own blood thus ensuring the livelihood of the sons and daughters of the family as long as they lived. The Potters as Harry found out were Warders and Runemasters, using their unique knowledge in runes to erect the toughest wards in the Magical community. It was rumoured that his ancestors had had a hand in the erection of the Gringott wards and defenses.

The flip side of the coin was that he couldn't despite being the rightful owner of the Black family books, open them or read them for after all he wasn't of Black blood.

So Harry decided to pocket the Potter Books after having shrunk them down to a convenient size also taking a bag full of galleons.

After receiving a new key from Skullcracker, Lupin and Tonks escorted him around the alley so he could buy new equipment such as robes, a trunk and his school supplies (He had received his owls and had done well in charms, potions, transfiguration and of course DADA; unfortunately his other subjects weren't nearly as good).

The trip was all in all pretty uneventful and very soon he found himself back in his room staring morosely out of his window in his bedroom. But now He had a lot to think about.

(Next chapter will be about August and Harry's reflections on how his life is shit and what to do about it.)


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 3- An August Month of Auguries.

It was during the month of August that Harry finally had time to sit down and put his live into perspective, and was hit by the quite startling truth that his life sucked.

It came about after his journey to Gringotts when he realized that being an adult didn't mean anything as Dumbledore continued to deprive him of most common courtesies and civil privileges that even psychotic criminals enjoyed.

He was, to put it mildly under house arrest, because some nutter wanted to kill him (actually a whole load of nutters but hey since when did he keep score), and the cherry on the cake was some prophecy, dreamt up by a drug crazed demented old fraud to get a job, meant that he was now the officially sponsored "Chosen One". Save the world and all that nosh. However the cynical and self-preserving side of him was actually quite displeased with this whole situation. I mean come on but one moment the wizarding was all about how he was an insane attention seeking prat and next they were all clamoring for him to save them.

Of course this led to him listing reasons to stick his head out of the proverbial trench, so that he could get his head blown off for his fellow man. He wouldn't do it for his relatives for if given the option he would have quite happily left them to stew many years ago with no blood wards for protection. He felt quite disconnected from his friends for the fact of the matter was that there was only a certain amount of times that you cheat death before it forces you to grow up and Harry was very far from the needy little boy who had latched on to the first person despite his obvious infatuation with his scar and not himself.

No Harry didn't hate Ron or Hermione it was more that he had grown out of them and their incessant demands as to what he was doing, studying or thinking. To be perfectly honest he knew they reported to Dumbledore, not in a bad way it was more about them not keeping their mouths shut with the O so great leader of the light. He understood where Dumbledore was coming from, but again the man was a menace to any decent private life with his control problems.

Harry's love life was inexistent, and anyway who the hell finds true love at 16, maybe if your life expectancy was under 30 years (which ironically his probably was, he thought bitterly), but the middle ages were over for a reason and that was definitely one of them. Cho was a disaster but he couldn't blame her, it was a messed up situation. If anybody had mentioned Ginny as he had heard Molly mumbling about one day, he would have laughed at them and pointed out that she was a star struck fan girl who looked like a bony version of his mother (no, Potters whilst being pureblood were not so inbred as to have a hereditary oedipal complex), also she probably didn't taste like strawberries, enough said.

So what did he, Harry Potter, owe any wizard or witch in magical Britain: the answer was nothing. He had given them nearly fourteen years of peace at the cost of his parents and childhood. He had put his life on the line time and time again for what? Slander, ridicule and abuse.

So Harry decided to leave.

And just like that plans started forming in his head as he made the biggest decision in his life which would ultimately benefit him to no end. The plan was simple he would stay at Privet Drive during the rest of the holidays and would make his escape come September 1st.

During the month Harry read his Potter books gaining knowledge of his families traditional expertise through the family books. It appeared that his great (times quite a few times) grandfather had created a ritual which he himself had undergone and died in, that bequeathed to his descendants the gift of Mage sight.

To understand Mage sight, one must understand that it isn't some extraordinary power but more of a gadget which can be activated with focus so as to identify wards and their intensity. But that still meant that he would need training and experience so as to correctly identify any wards that he could see. It is in other terms a kind of scanner showing colors and patterns allowing the wizard to identify wards and their potential weaknesses. It didn't however much to Harry's disappointment allow him to see threads woven into wards and untie them.

From the books Harry found out why wards are rarely able to move, the fact is that they rely on Runes placed either in the air (which was often the case with blood wards) or more often than not the ground and focused on and by arithmetically placed focal stones. The wand combinations were used to power a ward, so that once the stones in place and the runes drawn in the correct sequence, the spells would activate the different parts of the ward drawing power from the caster. Of course a ward drawn by a powerful wizard was always strong enough against normal magic users, but it was the activation sequence and placement of the runes and focal stones that made them more or less impenetrable. The beauty of this particular craft was that skill beat raw power against an experienced Ward-breaker; in theory a near squib if he came across the right sequence could make an impenetrable ward, whereas someone with the power of Merlin himself but no real skill could see his ward torn down in a few seconds. Obviously a decently powerful wizard like Harry mixed with his family knowledge and a bit of hands on practical would be able to create some fairly decent wards and he would only get better with time.

The complexity didn't stop there of course, because each different type of ward called for different sequences, runes and focal stone. Then of course came ward combination, depending on what you wanted done you would put up different wards. Some families wanted offensive wards which actively seek to strike out at intruders whilst others desired purely defensive wards. You couldn't have the same combinations for the ministry or a private home.

The last part of being a ward master was about finding and carving the right focal stone for the right ward. You could do everything with the same sort of stones but like wands with wizards and witches, each stone had properties that were uniquely suited to each type of ward. Moonstone was the best to ward against Vampires and Werewolves, Granite was used for primary defense wards which when triggered created a shield focused on Gems and linked to Granite focal stones near the outer edges: the gem was a powerful defensive focal whereas the granite would drain excess magic being a magical absorbent this means that the shield goes up and should the intruder try to crash it by overloading it then the excess energy gets drained away.

Harry quickly realized that the wizarding world had been slightly hoodwinked because the common knowledge of wards was more on the lines of a defensive charm derived from warding, a good example was the Intruder Ward which alerted the caster to an intrusion into the designated area but having no focus would fade over time and you could get round them. Todays warders used common purpose focal stones made of Pink Dragon stone, a highly magical conductor, which whilst able to sustain almost any ward was not as powerful for specific tasks as individual types of stone. Also sequencing and the understanding of arithmetically placed stones and runes had been lost. Curse and ward breakers tended to rely on different standard approved methods to overload and break a ward rather than proper identification. They would run tests to see which method to use. Wards non Potter built were almost always based on one unique center stone thus weakening the overall wards. One of the reasons for Voldemorts ease at home killings was that a powerful wizard could brake through wards centered on a unique stone. When he hadn't been able to because of superior warding it was nearly always by getting another to betray the target. Charles Potter had been killed by a friend whose family was held hostage by the dark lord and had planted Runic bombs in the Manor, whereas James had put to much trust in the fidelius charm and had been betrayed. Moral of the story, thought Harry, don't trust charms, trust Potter Wards.

So the hours grew into days, and the days grew into weeks until it was nearly time for the great escape. All the while Harry studied and practiced creating wards moving slowly onto the more complex ones such as warding his bedroom against Madeyes magical vision. Several times he received visits from order members trying to get him to remove the wards and even Moody had to go away grumbling as he couldn't bring Harry's wards down. Of course the one which really pissed the order off was the wizard repellent ward which kept on making the guards suddenly rush of for no apparent reason and it took Dumbledore himself to work out what was going on.

Harry had of course quite happily explained this away by saying that it was a way to be close to his family which he never known. Ha two can play the guilt trip he had thought a bit viciously as Dumbledore left looking a bit downhearted. Needless to say he had been left alone with his warding experiments after that. His only regret was not having proper focal stone to practice with as he didn't have enough money to randomly buy crates of precious stones and he wouldn't be able to get them even if he did.

Harry also practiced on stealth and disguising spells and wards, he realized that although he was an adult and the ministry could no longer track him, at least legally, that didn't mean that that they, the order and the Death Eaters wouldn't try. He had help in this domain from two books Fleeing Fugitive by Ultemeric the uncaught  and Tracking traitors by Brian the Betrayed, both books were useful as the first gave him all sorts of tips from never leaving a paper trail, regular ID changes, ID fabrication to masking magical signatures; whilst the second listed all known ways of finding someone... with there countermeasures. He was pretty sure that by now he could give anybody a good run for there money.

Finally september the first rolled around and Harry was at last really to commence his travels and live life to it's fullest. That morning he had breakfast for what he hoped would be the last time with the Durseley, before the order picked him up to escort him to Platform 9 and ¾. He new better than to leave whilst the order was watching his every move at number four and had decided that the perfect opportunity would be on the Hogwarts express were no one could report his absence for nine hours before the train arrived at Hogsmead station.

So after warmly thanking the order for their concern (The hat was right I'm to hypocritical and cunning to be in Gryfindor, he said to himself) Harry proceeded to board the express. Making sure that as many people as possible had seen him on the train, he went and found a compartment and was quickly joined by Ginny, Ron and Hermione. After a bit of badgering over his summer holidays to which he replied in dull monosyllabic tones, trying to sound as obtuse as possible, the three left for a prefect meeting to Harry's delight.

Now you can't portkey onto a moving object but who says you can't portkey of?

So Harry shrunk his trunk and slipped it into his pocket before turning a quill into a portkey. He then felt a tug at his navel as the portkey activated and he was sent spinning to the park in Little Whingham, there in the shelter of the woods he placed glamour charms on his face and hair before portkeying to Diagon alley. He proceeded to portkey hop around Britain six times to magical places so that when the order found out even Dumbledore would have a hard time picking up a trace and the time spent would insure that the consecutive jumps would be cold. Of course masking his signature and altering his appearance and clothes several times would only diminish a pursuant's chances.

And with one final hop he left Britain for fairer horizons....

OK RandR people, I've had a lot of readers but few reviews, Sorry cliffhanger there but if anyone has a destination in mine I'm happy for the suggestion (I've a few countries in mind to explore so I don't mind adapting for my readers)


	4. Chapter 4

I don't own anything

Chapter 4, Cranky Canadians

On his way over to Canada he had stopped at Iceland, which was apparently the wizarding fiscal heaven, a sort of mix between Switzerland and the Bahamas for muggles, to set up an alternative account with the Goblins. He had found the goblins to be in an eerily similar situation to the Jews before the muggle world wars. Basically the Goblin Nations were accused by wizards of being money grubbing vile things, and wizards conveniently forgot that it was the centuries of discrimination and deprivation of other activities that made the Goblins be bankers, a profession to lowly for the pureblooded idiots in government. Before the goblins had been weapon smiths (rivaling the dwarfs), warders many centuries ago, potion masters and many other trades mixing their own brand of magic to augment their potency.

These trades were still practiced in secret by some, but the goblins had firmly cemented their hold on the wizarding worlds gold so as to disallow any attempts to take that away too. Harry didn't particularly like or dislike them, they were understandably surly given the circumstances but had their own code of honor. Treat them with respect and they would keep secrets and were incorruptible, their word of honor being fiercely upheld. Spit upon them and their word meant nothing as they sought to to screw you over, selling your secrets for a token galleon. Anyhow after opening an international account under no name but a number protected by his magical signature, with access available from any goblin bank or Gnome bank in the world. The Gnomes were cousins to the Goblins and had several countries under their financial thumb as per the 1236 Treaty of Derivatives and Commerce, basically neither party, who got on well, wanted to compete in the same country leaving the Gnomes to control central Europe.

After Iceland, Harry had arrived in Montreal under the name of Thomas More (sorry but I've got a Saint thing going on). Using his mage sight, Harry had been able to move around quickly locating the wizarding centers which stood out like saw thumbs.

As he had approached the center which was called Wolf valley, he had heard screams coming from a nearby alley. Now what Harry didn't know was that Canada had no discrimination against werewolves for the simple fact that the magical community was run by them in the cities whereas the Indian shamans ran the Native Indian communities and generally the countryside. This came from the first great waves of immigration, the European werewolves had fled the discrimination and sought refuge in Canada, the first werewolves had protected the largely magical Indians from the belligerent muggle invasion by teaching them unplottable charms, muggle repellent wards and such whereas the werewolves had learned to master the inner animal greatly increasing their potential and achieving control during the full moon. The last war seen was when General Wolf a great werewolf leader had sought to unite the French clan La Lune Noire with the other Canadian clans . The end result was a lose allied Federation which didn't stop rival clans from having a go at each other striving to eliminate key rivals so as to establish dominance.

Little did harry know as he headed towards the sounds, having been nagged into it by his conscience, that this was an attack by a rival clan in Toronto. Three men were in an alley surrounding a women threatening her.

"So, you think that we'll let you rat us out to your pathetic boss you stupid piece of shit?" The closest man had snarled at her. "Don't worry we'll take care of you and your so called family, that will teach people that you don't mess with us or get in our way"

As the women begged for her family, something had snapped in Harry, as it reminded him of what Voldemort had done on that fateful Halloween fifteen years ago. So without further ado he jumped in front of the women consumed by ice cold fury and snapped of a wordless stunner at one of the men .

Before immediately erecting a shield as his opponents wands trained on him. What nobody realized was that the power of the stunner driven by emotions connecting directly with a badly made portkey in the mans pocket created a big enough explosion to obliterate the three men. However he barely protected himself and the women from the blast.

When the women got over her shock of seeing a blur jump in front of her and obliterate her assailants she had hugged him gratefully "Thank you, my name is Brianna and I owe you a life debt for saving my family and myself"

Before Harry had a chance to answer she had run off, well that was odd, he thought, but I still need to get into the valley.

The valley turned out to be in a mall, and Harry had to admire the charms and wards on the entrance. It was in fact an escalator that went down into the Valley that muggles could see but wouldn't want to take, the more they wanted to go down the more they would have "urgent needs" to attend to.

The only thing that Harry picked up were some focal stones (general purpose) a book on occlumency, because the fugitive book had recommended it.

Unfortunately he realized that slaughtering three people (albeit by accident) in a new and unknown city so he elected to stay at a small Motel on the outskirts of town which he had found out about from a simple tourism guide. Hey the simplist methods are often the most unpredictable and therefore the best.

By the time he got to the motel he was dog tired but he still remembered to put up some of the more common wards with Potter improvements before he fell asleep not even undressing himself.

Elsewhere in Montreal a young women in her early thirties had run home to see if her family was safe. After tearfully recounting the story to her husband about being saved by a mysterious savior he had told her: "Brianna, you need to tell your uncle Jake immediately, he could still be in danger from the Toronto Hitwolves. Also I don't know about this stranger but we need to find out who he is and fast"

As Brianna left to find her uncle, her husband called some of his contacts on the floo network, to find out more about were a certain long black haired, blue-eyed, gray cloaked foreigner had gone.

* * *

That evening the Montreal Alpha, who happened to be Jake, was in a meeting with his trusted lieutenants: "Would anyone like to explain what the hell is going on in my city" he growled

"Boss, It seems that the Toronto crowd sent their hitwolves to assassinate you in the hopes of destabilizing our faction before the monthly gathering of the federation clans. However your niece, Brianna, overheard their plans and was on her way to warn you when they cornered her and were going to execute her. At that point some stranger pops up exploding the three hitwizards with one curse, protecting Brianna with a shield and after she thanks him, saunters of without a word as if nothing ever happened"

"You mean that he took down three of Torontos best with a single nonverbal spell" exclaimed Jake "Does anyone Know who this guy is"

"Well, said Brianna's husband a little uneasily, I found out that his name Thomas More, and that he's foreign. I would watch out for this one boss, 'cause when I inquired more nobody knew anything about him; this guy came from nowhere and with that sort of power. Brianna says it all took less than a second..." he trailed of.

"Boss if this guy is Thomas More then I got info that one Thomas More checked into a Motel on the outskirts."

"Okay, said Jake, Tom take ten men an give this guy a visit, no roughing up or anything he did just save my life, but find out who he is. And Sam I want you to alert our Hitwolves to make a retaliatory attack on the Toronto bosses favorite bar, Slim Jim, the one his godson Michael owns and runs. Blow the place up for all I care, but we need to sent a message otherwise we lose face and respect!"

Later that night, as Tom and his men stealthily approached the motel where Harry lay sleeping they tripped the intruder ward. This sent Harry a jolt to awaken him. Not knowing who was coming after him, he didn't want to stick around and see if it was friends of the men from earlier. He knew he didn't have long as despite everything he was still a beginner at warding and hadn't taken enough time to erect strong wards before going to sleep. Springing into action he thanked his lucky stars for not undressing or unpacking for the night and created a portkey to Wolf Valley, figuring that he would leave town from there. To be honest he didn't run from England to survive Voldemort only to be killed in a gang fight.

Once he was ready he summoned the ward stones into his hands instantly crashing the wards and portkeyed out of the room. A few seconds later Tom and his crew entered the room only to find it empty.

When Harry arrived into Wolf valley he quicky cast a disillusionment charm and a Notice-me-not charm on himself and walked to the other end of the street. Once there, knowing he had to get out of the city, he elected to go to Toronto. So electing to go to the outskirts he pulled out a map so as to have the coordinates and made a new portkey to go there. On arrival he found a small Inn where he checked in to get some much needed sleep.

Over the next few days, Harry got to know this new city. It intrigued him to learn that their was no clear wizarding center rather a collection of wizarding haunts such as bars or bookshops in the. It was whilst in a small pub near his motel that he heard of the shaman communities. The bar man, an old quiet type who liked him for some reason encouraged him to visit these when Harry explained that he was on vacation as the Shamans had a lot of understanding of "natural" magics. He told him that although the native Americans were a fierce bunch they were essentially peace loving. So Harry decided to spend a bit more time wondering around before heading out to a nearby community.

During this time, Harry spent his time reading and practicing warding, he was starting to get a firm grasp on the nature of the arithmacy involved, to an extent were he hoped to be able on day to create new and improved sequence formula. He also practiced the more offensive type of wards in the books. Now he wasn't any sort of genius but the insight written down in the family books was such that many things became quite easy for him, needless to say he wasn't ready to start offering his services for hire but he was making progress in spotting weaknesses in wards. The other subject he forced himself to regulary practice was occlumency. Although his progress was slow after the damage done by his sessions with Snape, he knew that dedication was the key to this and his fugitive book had sufficiently impressed upon him the importance of the subject. If he couldn't obtain a minimum of control any person proficient in the mind arts could gain his true identity. The fact that a lot of practitioners were shady people meant that he didn't want to allow that sort of blackmail over his head. The other fact of course was Sirius's death. He wasn't to torn up about it, he hadn't really got to know him after all, but he was saddened and the idea that he could have prevented being tricked through occlumency was enough to fuel his resolution in mastering the art.

So after a few days Harry sat at the bar of a small pub in Toronto drinking a glass of firewisky, a Canadian brand called Bourbons finest, thinking about what he was going to do next. As he had walked in he noticed that their was a weakness in the wards, notably the intention part of the wards. Bars are tricky places to ward because you don't want to keep people out, but you still want to keep trouble away.

Reaching a decision he called over the bar man and said "Excuse me, could you tell me your name"

"Names Mike, came the reply, what can I do for ye?"

"Well you see I'm an apprentice warder, and I couldn't help noticing that your wards seem a bit screwed up". Harry had decided to pass himself of as an apprentice seeing as he was new to the trade (although apprenticeship was kept in the family, the test to become a master being set and determined by the head of the family. Quite convenient for him seeing as he was head. This way, he rationalized, if I screw up it won't seem to suspicious.

"Right, I suppose I should take you on faith so you can charge a ludicrous amount of money to make some repairs" came the sarcastic reply.

Harry looked at him and said "Well you know normally the intent wards won't let people with immediate bad intentions towards yourself or any customer in the bar come in and reacts on various levels depending on the threat?"

"Yeah"

"So if someone, who was going to kick the crap out of me, wanted to come in they would get stunned?"

"Where are you going with this?"

Harry ginned and said "Proof"

So getting up he walked out of the bar into the street, and punched the first magic user he saw calling him several rather demeaning names and walked back in to sit down.

The man obviously reacted and rushed into the bar looking for him, when he saw him sitting at the bar as calm as can be, he ran at Harry with his fist raised so Harry had to stun him.

"Do you believe me now?"

The barman looked a bit stunned but nodded his head and finally said "I'll give you five hundred galleons to fix them"

Harry had to explain that he would rather take down the wards and raise new ones in their stead which he then spent the afternoon doing. Without knowing it he added a level of reaction to the offensive reaction of the wards making it so that anyone with intention to murder would be electrocuted (obviously he wasn't an expect yet and mixed up two runes which were quite similar).

After the work was over, he sat back at the bar enjoying a refreshing butterbeer and talking with Mike.

Mike asked him what he was doing in these parts to which he replied "Well I'm just traveling around really, but I had to mention the wards because I'm a peace loving kind of guy"

"What do you mean?"

"Well I just hate it when innocents get caught in the crossfire of some petty feud or private war. I've seen to much of that sort of shit and I hate how these sort of people never realize the harm their doing to others. Anyway this way some innocent people our protected, their happy and I'm happy, whats more I got a bit of money out of it"

On the topic they arranged payment with a magically imprinted bank transfer draft (a drop of willingly given blood was necessary) that Harry pocketed as he exited the bar.

As he left Mike called out "By the way whats your name?"

Harry replied "Thomas More" before promptly leaving.

* * *

Ok there's more coming soon. I'm sorry if I offended any Canadians by my lack of knowledge on what appears to be a great country. Next chapter we will see a bit more of the werewolf clans, bear in mind that there are, in my idea of magical Canada, other magic users, I just liked the idea of a "safe haven" country that fits with a slightly reserved country on the international scene. Canada is a powerful nation that keeps to itself a lot.

On another note the werewolf mentality is that of packs which have a perpetual dominance game between packs and in the pack itself. Why werewolves thrive is that the control over the inner beast means that they can reproduce and these days nearly all werewolves are born, it is seen as a great advantage.

A reviewer (sorry not on the net but writing on a disconnected laptop) suggested Canada which is why we are here. Also Harry isn't suddenly great in warding, runes and arithmency but has an advantage of unique family books allowing him to raise wards by following "steps", this Harry isn't as stupid as the canon and is slowly but surely learning a lot: no he can't create new wards at the moment only raise wards as instructed. (thanks for the insight from the reviewer raising this question)

Also soon we get order, Voldemort and ministry reactions to Harry's departure as Harry visits the Native Americans or Canadians not quite sure what a "red indian" in Canada is called these days.

Last point there was no offense meant by any references meant expressibly or implied to anyone so if something bothers anyone send a review and I'll see what I can do.

Thanks R&R


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